


Keep Talking

by campscientist



Category: Gentleman Jack (TV)
Genre: Consent, Emotional Growth, Emotional Intelligence, F/F, Healthy Relationships, Light BDSM, Love Languages, Mental Health Issues, Partnership, Power Play, Praise Kink, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-21
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-10 02:15:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19898215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/campscientist/pseuds/campscientist
Summary: Anne worries that her dominant nature could accidentally derail Ann's progress toward a healthier state of mind. Ann tries to reassure her as the newlyweds set the tone for their married life.





	1. In which Ann is a brat and Anne loves it.

“Are you still talking?”

The words had slipped out without a thought. It was not like Anne Lister to speak so uncarefully, but the last few minutes with her new wife—married not yet half an hour—had roused some familiar urges. What was it about Miss Walker’s newfound confidence and sass that made the thought of pinning her against a wall, stilling her hands and silencing her with a deep and powerful kiss, more compelling than ever before?

It wasn’t disapproval or distaste—quite the opposite. Her heart was full to see Ann so happy, holding herself in high esteem and voicing her opinions. This gave her as much hope for their future together as anything else, and Anne was determined to guard and preserve it at any cost. Perhaps this was why she turned to her wife so quickly, grasped both her hands, and stooped to meet her eye level.

“You do know that in fact, I adore hearing what you have to say, don’t you?”

But Ann was smiling, and she laughed before saying, “Oh, hush! I know you were being funny. I know you didn’t mean it.”

 _Didn’t I?_ thought Anne; for she was now envisioning herself pressed against Ann from behind, her fingers resting over her wife’s lips to quiet her, kissing and nibbling that delicate neck to her heart’s content. But she smiled back at her as tenderly as she could. She saw that Ann was blushing a bit. Had she sensed Anne’s desire when it had suddenly reared its head? After all, she always had been well attuned to it. But what if, instead, she was blushing from self-consciousness? What if Anne’s careless words had disturbed her new equilibrium, stirred her deep-seated doubts?

For the moment Anne did not believe it was so, but this was not a risk worth taking. She must be more cautious. _Might I keep her feeling like she can take on the world,_ she wondered, _but also like she is utterly and helplessly mine?_

 _“_ Good. Good,” replied Anne. Still smiling, she squeezed Ann’s hands quickly before releasing them. They continued on their way up the street toward the Black Swan hotel. Anne stayed behind her wife by barely half a pace, just far enough to place a hand on Ann’s back and keep those flaxen curls and exquisite shoulders within her line of sight. _This is a pretty needle to be threaded_ , she thought, tearing her eyes away just long enough to look up to the sky. _May God grant me the strength and skill to do it._

————————————

Tea was excruciating for all involved. At Ann’s insistence they’d had it brought up to their private rooms; at Anne’s, there they had actually sat down to partake, which her wife clearly had never intended.

“Aren’t you hungry? You’re usually hungry by this time,” said Anne.

“I can’t eat, I’m too excited.”

“Well, I am.”

“Anne, we’re _married_!”

“Yes, and isn’t it marvellous?” Anne was beaming. “I can’t remember a day that’s brought me nearly so much joy, truly. Yet even wives need a little sustenance now and then. Come here, have a biscuit, I don’t want you swooning later—”

“Oh, don’t you? But that’s not like you at all,” said Ann playfully. Ignoring the proffered biscuits, she strode over to Anne, wrapped her arms around her, and pressed herself close.

“Mmm. You know what I mean.” Anne obliged her with a long kiss, as gentle and tender and soft as could be. But when Ann began to tug at her arm, meaning to pull her over to the bed, she resisted. It was not in her nature to be led. “Hang on,” she said quietly, taking hold of Ann’s wrists. “First— tea.”

“You can’t be serious,” said Ann, shaking her head incredulously.

In response Anne tightened her grasp on her wife’s wrists and directed her into a chair at the window-side table. She poured two cups and handed one to Ann before taking her own seat. Ann accepted it with characteristic grace but soon began shifting in her chair, staring intently across the table at Anne. She leaned farther forward. She fidgeted again. She lifted her cup, took a rushed sip, and then quickly set it down. She inhaled deeply and feigned calmness for a while.

Anne watched all this with an approving smile. There could be no mistaking what kind of hunger was animating her wife, and she had every intention of satisfying it—on her own terms. For now, she was quite enjoying watching the poor girl squirm. _In any case, she must learn who shall set the tone. She must learn what it means to be Mrs. Lister, and all she stands to gain from it_. Anne sipped her tea leisurely for what felt to her like an hour; she was testing her own patience as well, already aroused simply from watching Ann’s deferential struggle to behave herself. She inwardly commended herself for having resisted this long. At last she set down her cup and said gently, “You’re quite unsubtle, you know.”

“Well, so are you!” Ann retorted. “Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing. But after all, I’m your wife now. Surely we’re beyond the need for subtlety?”

Anne smiled and ran her tongue behind her teeth. “You’re quite right.” She rose abruptly and crossed to the sofa; Ann followed immediately. _Good girl._ Anne sat down first and then swiftly, decisively, pulled her wife down to sit across her knees. She felt her pulse quicken, every nerve stirring at the feel of the woman now settled on her lap. She thrilled to look on the sweet face gazing up at her, those blue eyes lit with desire. Utterly beautiful, so kind and so brave, a bit wild, completely free, yet absolutely _hers._

“It was very good of you to wait while I finished my tea,” Anne murmured, stroking and kissing her neck. “You were very good.”

“Was I?” replied Ann faintly. She was breathing rather heavily.

“Mmm. Of course you were. You always are.” Her left hand now on the small of Ann’s back, her right hand sliding up her leg.

“Yes, but—what if I weren’t? I mean, what if I hadn’t been?”

Anne busied her fingers beneath her wife’s petticoats, drawing out a sharp gasp. “Well. If it came to that I suppose I should have kept you waiting even longer.”

To her shock, Ann laughed and said, “Oh, but I don’t think _you_ could have waited any longer!”

Anne froze, eyebrows raised. Her mouth fell open into a barely-restrained smile and she exhaled sharply in disbelief and delight. _What on earth shall I do with her?_ For a few moments she simply regarded Ann, who was looking up at her with the most delicious mix of lust and mischief, shining through a façade of innocent sweetness. Anne had never seen anything quite like it, and she had never wanted anything quite as badly as she wanted her wife at that moment. _Steady now,_ she told herself. At last she gave Ann’s inner thigh a light pinch and said quietly, “Did you really just say what I think you said? Surely I misheard you, just now.”

She watched intently for any sign of distress, but Ann only craned her neck, her open lips drawing very close to Anne’s. Emboldened, Anne took her wife by the chin and kissed her with all the authority she could muster. Then, running her thumb down Ann’s throat, she muttered, “Mmm. Don’t think you can butter me up that easily.”

A few quick rubs between Ann’s legs, but then nothing but stillness and a firm hold. Ann moaned and strained against her; unmoved by her plight, Anne merely traced a finger down her wife’s cheek and neck. “Untie my cravat and hand it to me,” she said. Her tone was quiet, direct, unmistakable. They locked eyes while Ann slowly loosened the knot, both of them breathing heavily, each helpless against the tension. Finally the cravat slipped free and Ann drew it out with a flourish. But instead of depositing it into Anne’s waiting hand she held it out of reach behind her back, biting her lip to suppress a grin.

Anne tightened her grip under her wife’s drawers. “Be careful, Miss Walker, or you shall goad me into doing something very wicked.” But Ann, evidently, was in the mood for danger; without ever breaking eye contact, she tossed the cravat behind her onto the floor.

“I see,” said Anne softly, and abruptly withdrew her fingers. In one smooth motion she stood up, placing one hand on Ann’s lower back to support her as she slid off her lap, and the other on the back of her neck. She guided her wife across the room to the bed, where she arranged her onto the pillows before climbing on top. Pinning Ann’s wrists above her head with one hand, she reached up her petticoats with the other and quickly found what she sought. All this fabric was an inconvenience, but her need for action was too urgent to wait for undressing.

“You seem very pleased with yourself, Miss Walker.”

“Oh Lord, I must really be in trouble if you’re calling me Miss Walker—” said Ann. She was panting now. _Getting closer._

“No, Miss Walker,” replied Anne, a low whisper in her wife’s ear. It was all she could do to keep from growling. “Trust me when I say that when you’re _really_ in trouble, you shall know it beyond the shadow of a doubt. For now, consider yourself seriously fortunate that it’s our wedding night. I’m in a generous and sentimental mood.”

“How very romantic—”

Anne interrupted her with a kiss, deep and insistent and crystal clear in its message. She could no longer stop herself from biting that exquisite upper lip, or the side of her neck, or her perfect shoulders. Eyes closed now, Ann was squirming and thoroughly flushed with pleasure. She strained to free her arms but Anne held them firmly pinned, fingers working masterfully under Ann’s drawers all the while.

Anne was rather lightheaded with pleasure herself at the feel of the pliant young body beneath her, both in her hands and between her own legs. Her wife’s whimpers and moans thrilled her every nerve to hear. But most intoxicating of all was the rush of control she was now exercising over Ann Walker, having been enthusiastically surrendered, it seemed, through Ann’s own provocation and playful defiance. And now, at last, Anne collected her most coveted reward: Ann’s whole body bucked hard against hers and a shiver of ecstasy illuminated the sweet face of her wife, her very own wife.

She released Ann’s wrists, which fell limp and still onto the pillow. Ann lay catching her breath, eyes shut, forehead beaded with sweat.

_A more beautiful and perfect sight I cannot imagine. I think we shall be very h—_

Superstitiously, Anne did not allow herself to finish the thought. Certainly, they might be happy; but she could never again take it for granted. She must do all in her power to make it so. She must protect her from all causes of doubt and melancholy, always and at all costs. And if she herself ever caused her wife doubt or melancholy? Well then, she must repent and make it right.

Anne leaned down and kissed her long and gently, trying to convey through her lips how much she adored her. She was rewarded with a dizzy sort of smile, although Ann’s eyes remained closed. Anne could not help wondering what, exactly, was going on in that pretty head.


	2. In which Anne takes yes for an answer.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anne and Ann discuss the balance of power in their relationship.

Anne slept badly, much worse than she ever imagined she would after such an idyllic day and evening. Afterwards they had undressed each other and simply lain for a while, together, everything as it should be. They had talked about all sorts of things but nothing of consequence. She had rubbed Ann’s back as she had done so many times before, relishing the task, delighting in the comfort it brought her. She had fetched the long-forgotten plate of biscuits for her, teased her gently for dropping crumbs in the linens, and then cleaned them up herself. She had held her tight and stroked her hair and kissed her neck until she fell asleep in her arms.

Then, for hours, she had been able to do nothing but watch Ann sleep, listen to her soft contented breaths, smell her hair. The moment could never be improved upon. It made the future, with all of its uncertainties and complications, seem less inviting than ever. She felt paralyzed by her good fortune, as though allowing this day to end might somehow put the whole thing at risk.

Worst of all was the notion that she might lose all through some error in her own behavior. Ann had seemed happy enough tonight. She had shown no reservations about Anne taking charge; in fact, she had seemed to thoroughly enjoy it. But what if Anne had misread it? What if she had been biased by her own desires, intoxicated by the novelty of connecting with this beautiful and sweet-natured woman who had, in the sight of God, vowed to be her wife forever? Could Ann have possibly interpreted Anne’s dominant behavior as an attempt to suppress her newfound confidence? As a genuine desire for a weak and timid companion?

Miserable at the idea and impatient to resolve it, Anne gently shook her wife awake. The sun had barely risen; the room was just light enough for her to see Ann’s eyes flutter reluctantly open.

“Anne? What is it? What’s the matter?”

“Are you all right? How are you feeling?”

“What do you mean?” Ann was blinking stubbornly, still groggy. “How am I— well, I was asleep, I wasn’t really feeling anything.”

“I’m sorry. I just had to— you see, I was—” Anne hesitated.

“Keep talking. Oh Lord, you look miserable, Anne! What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong, I don’t think. And I’m not miserable. Well I am a bit, just now, but in fact I’m the happiest I’ve ever been. But that’s the problem, you see.” Seeing her wife’s perplexed and worried expression, Anne paused and took a long breath before continuing. “All my life I’ve pursued exactly this. What we did yesterday in church, the two of us here in this bed right now, all of it. And _you_ are the one who finally gave it to me, this incredible gift!”

Feeling tears building, Anne instinctively turned her face away; but Ann put a hand on her cheek and turned her round again to face her. With some difficulty, Anne finally got her words out. “Somehow I’ve got it in my head that I’m making you miserable, whether you know it yet or not. Or that I will do, eventually. I can’t shake the thought. And God help me, I don’t know how I would possibly bear it if I lost you.”

“Anne, how on earth could you think that I could ever get fed up with you?”

“It’s not that, exactly. I think I’m good company, aren’t I?”

“The best company!”

“Right. It’s more that—well—” Suddenly aware that her fingers were drumming nervously on the pillow, Anne busied them instead with stroking Ann’s wrist and hand. “I know I can be overbearing. I always have been. But lately—ever since you agreed to be my wife—I’ve been feeling more inclined than usual to exert my authority, as it were. I’ve been sick with worry that this behavior might make you think poorly of me. Or far worse, of yourself. I should never forgive myself if it did.”

Ann’s mouth fell open. “You can’t be feeling guilty about last night?”

“Not guilty, exactly. My appetites are what they are. Instincts.” Anne hesitated. “I must own that the idea of having authority over you—in bed, particularly—excites me deeply. Last night I _was_ feeling generous and sentimental, if you can believe it, but I’m afraid that won’t always be the case. So I need to know your true and honest opinion about it. We both must be on the same page about what it all means.”

Ann looked genuinely surprised. “Did I somehow give the impression that it doesn’t excite me too? Much less that it offends or distresses me?”

Anne exhaled, relieved. “No, you didn’t. Quite the opposite. I must say, you certainly have the knack for riling me up when you want to.”

“I did have you rather wrapped around my finger, didn’t I?” said Ann, and they both laughed.

“Oh, is that what you think?” replied Anne, her heart swelling to see the pride and mischief and cheer in her wife’s eyes. She took her by the chin and kissed her, long and tenderly, biting Ann’s lip ever so slightly to finish. “Well. In many ways you’re right about that. I hope you shall be gentle with me.”

Ann smiled. “How could I not be?”

“Seriously, Ann, I want you to understand how much power _you_ have and always will have. Over me, over yourself, over your own life, over our life together. When I ask you to submit to me, you have the power to choose to do so, or not. Never forget that. If you were not as strong as you are, I should never ask in the first place— because I have no desire for authority over a weak woman, none at all. That would never do for me, for there’d be neither thrill nor pride nor respect in it. Do you understand me?”

Ann looked quite moved. For a few moments she said nothing but only squeezed Anne’s hand; when she finally did speak it was with great emotion.

“I know what it means to be a wife. When you asked me to marry you… you asked me to take a leap of faith, Anne, you did. But while I was in Scotland, I was reflecting on my whole life and I realized that you’d never steered me wrong, not even once. You’ve often understood me better than I understood myself. You’ve protected me and cared for me and lifted me up at every turn. So you’ve earned this, Anne, you’ve earned my trust.” She paused to kiss Anne’s cheek. “Being your wife doesn’t just excite me—it fills me with _peace_ , too. There’s a peculiar kind of freedom in giving myself to you. I’m proud to be yours. It proves I’m strong. It gives me meaning, a _purpose_ that I’ve been wanting for as long as I can remember!”

Thoroughly overwhelmed, for several minutes Anne could do nothing but hold Ann tight, kiss her forehead and her eyes, stroke her hair. When she finally composed herself she said quietly, “All the same. You must never doubt your worth, hmm? Nor your agency. It’s very important.”

“Yes, I understand.” Ann responded to the embrace by pressing herself closer still.

“You have my word I will never abuse your trust. But listen: you _must_ tell me right away if I accidentally hurt you, is that absolutely clear? Or if we have a difference of opinion. Or if you are unhappy for any reason, so that I may fix it.”

“I promise I will.” She had begun to wiggle her hips against Anne’s body.

“And we must both agree to take care of each other always. We must both remember the power we have over each other and use it wisely, and only for good.”

“Yes, of course, Anne,” she agreed, now pressing her breasts stubbornly against Anne’s own chest.

“And you must never forget—”

“Anne! Are you still talking?” said Ann Walker, and she burst out laughing.

Anne smiled in spite of herself. She had been speaking in all seriousness, but clearly Ann was ready to move on to something more fun. There would be time enough to say all she wanted to say. Besides, such a burst of confidence was something to be rewarded. _Far be it from me to deny her what she wants and deserves_ , Anne thought; obligingly, she flipped her wife onto her back, straddled her, and squeezed both her nipples between thumb and forefinger as Ann hummed contentedly. _But I must stay vigilant... I wonder, how long will her mind allow her this happiness?_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Ch3 will feature more sexual content, this time from Ann Walker's perspective. Most likely it will take me several weeks to finish so please stay tuned.

**Author's Note:**

> The psychology of BDSM relationships fascinates me in general, but several aspects of the Ann(e)s' relationship make it an especially interesting context. I wanted to explore how a loving and consensual light power exchange might have played out between Ann Walker and Anne Lister during their marriage, to the benefit of both partners' well-being.
> 
> Most likely this will end up between 4 and 7 chapters total, some of which will be from Ann Walker's perspective.


End file.
